


What are the odds?

by billyshears



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Trans Character, background gabriel/beelzebub - Freeform, mentions of transphobia, non-binary Beelzebub, past Gabriel/Crowley, past aziraphale/beelzebub, trans man crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2020-10-03 20:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billyshears/pseuds/billyshears
Summary: “Over here, Gabriel” Beelzebub called “I was just chatting with my ex as well, what are the odds? Ah, this is Aziraphale, I believe he’s leaving soon so don’t worry about him”Everyone stared at Beelzebub, at loss for words; until Aziraphale stood up and stiffly offered his hand, which Gabriel shook briefly.“Uh, alright, nice to meet you?” He looked at Beelzebub in confusion, and cleared his throat “They’re Beelzebub and, this is Crowley; since we’re doing this for some reason” Crowley did a small wave, and there was no way of telling who he was looking at, since he hadn’t removed his sunglasses. “He’s also leaving, aren’t you, Crowley?”





	1. Chapter 1

Aziraphale and Beelzebub were on good enough terms, and that was mostly due to the fact that they almost didn’t interact with each other post-breakup. On one of the rare occasions where they ran into the other, they would remain civil and make innocuous comments, such as “So how’s work going?” or “Crazy weather, right” and then part ways after a very short awkward silence. It worked magic and they were both happy to announce to whoever wondered about their relationship that they had mutually decided to just stay friends.

So when Aziraphale was almost done with his tea and Beelzebub walked into the coffee shop, he almost didn’t have to make any effort on smiling and waving at them. As much as he’d prefer to feign obliviousness, he was unfortunately sitting right behind the wide glass door, and it could have been interpreted as rudeness on his end, and of course he didn’t want that. He assumed that was also the reason why Beelzebub waved back, and even approached him.

“Fancy running into you here, is this seat taken?” They asked with their usual neutral tone, standing next to his table.

“Oh, yeah, long time no see! And no, it isn’t” Ever the gentleman, Aziraphale stood up and moved the chair for them. “Ah, but I’m afraid I have to leave soon, maybe we can catch up some other time?” He offered as he sat down again; and both of them knew it was just a formality, and no catching up would be happening in the foreseeable future.

“Right, sure” Beelzebub replied with the correct thing to say. “And don’t worry, I’m actually waiting for someone”

“Oh, really?” Aziraphale asked, and his interest was more genuine this time. “Who is it?”

“My boyfriend” They said quickly, as if expecting their answer to go unnoticed, and looked out. “Oh, here he is. He’s taking his time, though.”

Aziraphale followed their gaze and saw not one but two guys, clearly engaged on a fierce argument. So, one of them was Beelzebub’s new boyfriend, huh.

“Let me guess” He smiled playfully, and Beelzebub rolled their eyes but did not stop him. Aziraphale observed the two yelling men, analyzing their appearances and what he could made out of what they were saying “The redhead has an… interesting choice of clothing, that you would appreciate, but he gesticulates too much and his language is too vulgar. Meanwhile, the taller one seems a bit too classic, but you can’t go wrong with classic, right? And while he’s obviously as mad as his screaming partner, he remains mostly composed, so it must be him. But who is he fighting with?”

To his credit, Beelzebub let out a short laugh.

“You’re right, of course. That’s Gabriel, and that’s his ex-boyfriend if I remember correctly”

Apparently, the two outside hear them saying Gabriel’s name, because their bickering died down, and entered the shop before Aziraphale could process their answer.

“His _what_?”

“Over here, Gabriel” Beelzebub called, ignoring Aziraphale’s question. “I was just chatting with my ex as well, what are the odds? Ah, this is Aziraphale, I believe he’s leaving soon so don’t worry about him”

Everyone stared at Beelzebub, at loss for words; until Aziraphale stood up and stiffly offered his hand, which Gabriel shook briefly.

“Uh, alright, nice to meet you?” He looked at Beelzebub in confusion, and cleared his throat “They’re Beelzebub and, this is Crowley; since we’re doing this for some reason” Crowley did a small wave, and there was no way of telling who he was looking at, since he hadn’t removed his sunglasses. “He’s _also_ leaving, aren’t you, Crowley?”

Crowley grumbled before replying.

“Yeah, whatever, I just wanted coffee but I don’t think I can stomach it now” He growled, and turned to face Aziraphale “Come on, you” He grabbed Aziraphale’s arm and dragged him outside.

Taken by surprise, Aziraphale didn’t manage to say anything; he just followed Crowley outside, and once there stared at him, questioning.

“Don’t tell me you wanted to stay with them” Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“N-no, well, no, but that was kind of rude”

“Bah, you shouldn’t care about that” Crowley replied and started walking. Aziraphale walked after him. “So, where are you going now?”

“I have to go back to the shop”

“Ah, sneaking out in work hours, aren’t you?” Crowley asked, mockingly, but Aziraphale took no harm.

“Not quite. That’s one perk of being your own boss, you see. I can decide when to take a break and enjoy a nice cup of tea outside.”

“Oh!” Crowley looked at him with interest, trying to figure out what kind of shop he ran. His whole outfit screamed “literature professor”, but that was more like something one would do in a university. “Well, do you mind if I walk with you?”

“Ah, not at all!”

They walked in silence one block, before Aziraphale spoke again.

“So uh, did you know about Beelzebub and Gabriel?” He would have preferred to talk about something other than their exes, but he couldn’t think of a different topic. Crowley stared at him for a moment - or he assumed he was staring behind his sunglasses, as he had turned his face towards him - before replying.

“Yeah. Gabriel told me, a few weeks ago”

“You and Gabriel seem… close” He said cautiously.

“Not by choice, believe me. I just have the misfortune of working with him” Crowley huffed and shoved his hands on his pockets, or as much as he could, considering the pockets on his ridiculously tight pants were ridiculously tiny.

“So uhm, what do you do for a living, then?” Aziraphale considered wise to change the topic already.

“Technically, “_for a living_” I do boring office work. It pays the bills, at least. But, uh” He made a pause and looked over Aziraphale, as if weighing how much was alright to spill to this guy he had just met. Aziraphale smiled, prompting him to continue. “Ideally, I’d quit and make enough from what I really enjoy. I uhm… I like plants” He muttered, and shrugged as he looked aside.

Aziraphale decided to not push it. They were almost at his shop, anyway.

“We’re here” He announced softly, retrieving a key chain from his pocket “You can come in if you want to. I’m uh, I’m afraid I’m not as good as the coffee shop, but I can fix you a cup of coffee If you’d like”

Crowley was busy staring at the sign over the door Aziraphale was currently opening. In curvy letters, it read “_Angel’s Ink_”, and smaller under it, “_Tattoo - Original designs_”

“You’re kidding” Crowley blurted, following him into what looked like the living room of your typical old lady: cozy, with big couches, a small table with teacups, and pastel colored walls.

“You seem surprised” Aziraphale said nonchalantly, well used to the reaction he got whenever someone found out he was a tattooist.

“Yeah, well, you don’t seem like- hold on, what?” He pointed to the shelves overflowing with books. “What, you sell books as well? Now that I can believe”

“Oh goodness, no!” Aziraphale looked scandalized “I couldn’t possibly sell them! But uhm, I lend them. It’s kind of a private library”

“But _you_ do tattoos? No offense but, you?”

“None taken, and yes”

“Do you even _have_ tattoos?”

Aziraphale blushed and turned around.

“Why yes, I do. Now, would you like coffee or what?”

“Yeah, sure… uh, thanks” Crowley called after Aziraphale had disappeared upstairs.

He wasn’t being fair, probably; it wasn’t right to judge someone by their appearances, but he couldn’t help the surprise.

Well, but he hadn't been entirely wrong, as there was some business going on with book, he thought as he inspected the shelves with curiosity. Many of the books looked old, and very used, but they were well taken care of. He ran his fingers over their spines, and paused on a title that caught his attention, taking it on his hand.

“Here’s the coffee. Found something good?” Aziraphale asked behind him, and Crowley did not jump because that wouldn’t have been very cool of him, but turned quickly to face him and take hold of the offered cup with his free hand.

“I guess” He replied, taking a small sip “Oh damn, this _is_ good”

“I’m glad. Take a seat, please” Aziraphale sat down, gesturing to the couch in front of him, and folded his hands in his lap.

The other did so, with a low hum of approbation. Everything about the shop seemed warm, and comfortable, and soft, and for one Crowley allowed himself to enjoy it.

They sat in silence, until Crowley finished his coffee, and then Aziraphale spoke up again.

“I don’t mean to kick you out, but I have an appointment soon” He said, sounding apologetical. Crowley just nodded and stood up, realizing he still was holding the book. When he handed it along with the empty cup, Aziraphale gently pushed it towards him. “No, it’s alright. I usually… I have a few rules, before someone borrows a book, but you can take this one home”

“What, just like that?”

“Well, you still have to give it back, obviously. But yes. You did save me from an uncomfortable situation, after all”

Crowley’s lips curled into a small smile.

“Ah, yeah, right. Thanks again for the coffee. See you!” And with that, he waved and walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woww okay! I’m very excited to start posting this fic! Some of the tags that i have right now will appear in next chapters, and some new tags may be added as well.
> 
> I have the next chapters outlined already, so it shouldn’t take a lot until I update this, but I’m sadly not good at schedules so I can’t tell when the next one will be up. Anyway, I am glad you’re reading this and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!! Please let me know if you catch any mistake, and any other comment and kudos are obviously welcome!
> 
> You can find me as @bi_lly_shears in twitter and @thinkanamelater in tumblr
> 
> Alright now I’m going to bed because I really need it!!


	2. Chapter 2

With a gasp, Aziraphale reached some interesting realizations; after what seemed an eternity of not being able to tear his eyes from a particular picture in his phone, in an app called “instagram”. But there were other circumstances that lead to that.

Around two weeks after they first met, Crowley wandered into Aziraphale’s workshop. The waiting room was empty, but as soon as he walked in, a voice called from behind a half-closed door.

“Welcome, please make yourself comfortable! I’m finishing a job right now, I’ll be with you in a moment!”

“Alright” Crowley replied, and splayed on one of the couches. He closed his eyes and relaxed as he listened to the whirr of the tattoo machine. The couch was _really _comfy. But before he could completely fell asleep, the machine stopped and he heard footsteps approaching.

He stood up, and he could make out the last of Aziraphale’s indications about proper tattoo care, before the client waved goodbye and left; only then he was paid attention.

“Ah, Crowley, was it? You came back! And you took the book with you!” There was no hiding the relief in Aziraphale’s voice, it was clear he had been expecting to get his book back.

“Yeah, well, I’m not really a fast reader, not at all.” Crowley raised an eyebrow “What did you think, I was going to steal it?”

“I didn’t say that” Aziraphale replied quickly, blushing, and took the book carefully from Crowley’s hands. “It’s nice to see you again. Did you like it? Ah, do you want something to drink?” He offered once the book was back in its shelf.

“Coffee, if that’s fine”

“Just one moment” Aziraphale nodded, and headed upstairs, to return a moment later with two steaming cups on his hands and a pleasant smile on his face. “Here you go”

“Thanks, Angel” Crowley received his drink and sat down again; and Aziraphale did a double take at him.

“Excuse me, what did you call me?”

“Isn’t that your shop’s name? Angel’s ink? I assumed you were the angel”

Aziraphale blushed again.

“It was- it started as a joke. You see, I usually draw wings- I like them very much, and I’m quite good at them, if I do say so myself – so my friends started calling my designs “angel’s ink”, and well, the name grew on me”

Crowley hummed in response and sipped on his coffee.

“Was that all, or did you forget my name as well?”

“It is an unusual name. Sorry” He muttered into the cup.

“Because you hear _Crowley_ just about every day, right?” Aziraphale wasted no time in replying, with a smile on his face.

Crowley smiled back, amused.

“Crowley is my last name.” He sipped loudly. “Anthony. That’s my uh, first name, actually. But, no one calls me that”

“Do you want me to call Anthony?” Aziraphale said softly, sitting beside him.

Crowley studied his face, thankful that his glasses hid most of the motion. It was such a casual question, and it felt extremely intimate at the same time.

Up close, Aziraphale looked soft, even softer than at simple glance. There where wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, which hinted that he probably was older than Crowley, and also that he smiled more often; and his eyes were attentive as he silently waited for an answer.

“Er…” Crowley started, not sure how to continue. He hadn’t spent all that time thinking about a suitable first name to have pretty much no one use it, but he was used to just being “_Crowley_”. He settled on shrugging as if it wasn’t important to him. “Whatever you like, it’s fine”

Aziraphale gave him a gentle smile, before shifting his gaze to look at his watch.

“Oh, it’s almost closing time” He said softly.

Taking the hint, Crowley hurried to finish his coffee, but stopped when a warm hand settled on his forearm.

“You don’t have to go yet”

“Uh?” Crowley asked smartly, and Aziraphale stared at him for a second before starting to ramble.

“Uhm, that’s it, if you want to stay! I actually- I don’t mind you staying longer, again, if you want of course, you seem nice and uh, I know I just gave you coffee but I have a wine I’ve been meaning to open and if you want to keep me company…”

Well, Crowley couldn’t say no to that, could he? So he let out a short laugh at the rambling, and stayed.

***

Inevitably, the conversation started around the common topic between them: their exes.

That way, Aziraphale learnt that Crowley and Gabriel had been coworkers for a long time before settling into a friends-with-benefits arrangement that eventually evolved into an exclusive relationship, that wasn’t really talked about; which caused more than a few bumps. They quickly brushed them off, however, and somehow managed to balance their romantic and working relationship on the basis of not acknowledging said disagreements.

“Until Gabriel got promoted, of course” Crowley helped himself to another glass of wine “He got to boss me around, which he _loved, _things only got more strained between us, and we had no more choice than to accept we were just being stubborn and it wasn’t working out” He finished with a shrug.

Aziraphale’s story was shorter. He met Beelzebub around the time when they were trying their hand at tattoos, and kept in touch after they grew bored of it and moved into another kind of art. Their conversation was engaging, if a bit crude at times. Aziraphale found himself wanting to spend more and more time with them, and was pleasantly surprised when he was told the feeling was mutual, so they started dating.

That didn’t really change anything between them; and after some months they confessed no one actually knew how to feel about their “official” status, and agreed it’d be better to split.

Even after their respective stories were shared, they quickly found out they could discuss different topics, so they moved to talk about the book Crowley had borrowed; and other books similar to it that Aziraphale has read; and then about their takes on tv and movie adaptations of books – which turned out to be a topic they both had very strong opinions, and only after they finished another wine bottle they settled on that it was a very complicated subject and it had to be examined on a case-by-case basis; and then Crowley announced in a slurred tone that he had to leave if he wanted to catch any sleep at all.

Aziraphale nodded, understanding, but caught him by his sleeve before he could walk out the room.

“Um. Before you go…” He let go of the fabric, but Crowley remained closer “Would you like to borrow another book?”

* * *

They continued to meet after that, at first whenever Crowley finished a book and stopped for a new one; but over the weeks he started to drop by when he claimed to be close to the shop, and Aziraphale started suggesting they went out for dinner in this lovely little place he just found out.

One time, Crowley dragged Aziraphale to the cinema after deeming unacceptable that he spent his free day with his nose buried on old books, and got them tickets for a romantic comedy.

Halfway during the movie, Crowley had slowly rested his arm on the top of Aziraphale’s seat, and eventually moved it around his shoulders. Aziraphale let out a small chuckle, and Crowley started to retreat his hand, but Aziraphale gazed at him for a second and mouthed “it’s alright”, and brusquely turned to face the screen once again.

None of them mentioned it afterwards. Aziraphale didn’t even let himself think about what that was.

But after that day, they were more inclined to casual touches: a brush of fingertips over knuckles, holding the other’s arm, sitting close together.

* * *

In his next visit to the shop, Crowley walked directly to the counter and placed a small houseplant on it.

“It’s for you” He said quickly before Aziraphale could even say hi, a touch of red creeping up on his cheeks “The guy who was going to buy it didn’t pick it up when I told him to, so I’m giving it away”

Aziraphale looked at him with an amused smile for a second but didn’t question the strange motivation behind the gift.

“Oh, so this is what you meant when you said you liked working with plants!” He said instead, picking it up and examining it.

“You- do you really remember that?” Crowley’s face only became more red.

“Well, dear, of course, why wouldn’t I?” He smiled brightly, and extended a hand to take hold of one of Crowley’s “Thank you. I love it”

* * *

“Welcome, I’ll be with you in a moment!” Aziraphale called from upstairs when he heard the door opening, and minutes later came down with a cup of hot cocoa, wondering if he had an appointment he had forgotten about. He froze in the last step. “Beelzebub?”

In fact, it was Beelzebub at the door, and that was enough of a surprise for Aziraphale; but something was off about them, there was a slouch where they usually held themselves with pride and a hint of disdain.

“Hey, Aziraphale” They tried to sound casual but their voice sounded scratchy, and wouldn’t quite meet Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Is everything alright?” He asked carefully, placing the cocoa down the table as he walked towards them.

“Yeah, yeah, just… Something came up with Gabriel, and…” They finally looked at Aziraphale, and he got to see there were tears running down their cheeks.

Without a second thought, Aziraphale closed the distance between them and pulled Beelzebub into his arms.

“This is stupid, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come, I just didn’t know who else I could talk with…” They said with a soft sob, pressing closer into Aziraphale’s chest, who hummed reassuringly “I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t really thinking, and I told him _I love you _and he… he just left”

“What?”

They had just blurted out something like that, and now they were openly crying? To Aziraphale, it was like talking with a completely different Beelzebub than the one he knew.

“It wasn’t like, right away” They rushed to explain, thinking Aziraphale was questioning Gabriel’s behavior “but he shut up a second, and then brought up how he was really busy and he’ll text me later and then, he left! I tried calling him but he didn’t pick up, and I’m…” They made a pause and took a shaky breath “I’m worried I screwed it…”

“Oh, dear” Aziraphale ran a hand over their hair, pushing down his mix of feelings.

Except a few specific situations, their relationship had never been big on physical affection. Aziraphale assumed that’s how Beelzebub preferred it, and had been alright with it; but now, with the way they clinged to his jacket, he asked himself just how many things he had done wrong and didn’t even realize.

But there was something else he should focus on right now.

“I’m not sure what I can do to help, but- Oh! I can call someone who knows Gabriel”

“What? You don’t mean-“ Beelzebub looked up, and this time Aziraphale averted their gaze.

“I just think, Crowley would likely have some advice for you? I mean, if that’s alright with you!”

Reasoning that there was no harm in it, Beelzebub accepted.

***

“Beelzebub. Aziraphale” After a phone call and some silent waiting, Crowley wandered inside the shop.

Beelzebub thought for a moment he was drunk, or hangover, considering his sunglasses and the erratic swing of hips; but Aziraphale showed no concern, so they assumed it was alright.

“So, Gabriel. He’s like that” Crowley stated, right to the point. Aziraphale, who was attempting to give them space but was clearly listening from the few steps behind, must have filled him in over the phone. “Give him some time, a few hours or a day, and he’ll come back like nothing happened” He chewed on his lip for a moment, before turning to face Beelzebub. “I would suggest _not_ letting him slip out of a serious conversation, but you do you”

A solemn silence stretched between them, only broken when Aziraphale stepped in and softly addressed Crowley.

“Um, thanks for coming all the way here. Do you, uh, want something to drink?”

“I really have to go now, but I’ll be dropping for coffee soon, angel”

Beelzebub raised their eyebrows at the pet name, but none of them took notice.

* * *

Crowley had grown accustomed to Aziraphale calling him from his landline, and although he disliked phone calls, he always picked up when the other’s name flashed insistently on his phone.

“Crowley, dear! Are you busy? I have a client here with me who wants to know how to get one of your beautiful plants” Aziraphale sounded excited and Crowley fought back a fond smile, until he realized that he couldn’t be seen over the phone.

“Nah, just got out of work. Show them my Instagram”

“Your… what now?”

“Angel, you’re kidding me, right?” Crowley blurted out, confused, after a moment of silence.

“Oh, I am most definitely not!” Aziraphale sounded offended to the mere suggestion of him _kidding_.

“We’re getting you a smartphone, this is ridiculous, I can’t believe-“

“Ah, but I have one already? I just don’t think it’s very useful”

With a frustrated groan, Crowley hung up on him; and Aziraphale profusely apologized to his client because he couldn’t answer their inquire.

Later that day, Crowley stomped into the shop and demanded to see Aziraphale’s phone. Ignoring all protests, he created an Instagram account for Aziraphale, posted pictures of some of his works, and followed his own account through it.

“There” He gave back the phone with the satisfaction of a job well done “You can thank me when you have more appointments than you can handle”

“I don’t think that’s something I'm looking forward to…” Aziraphale took the phone from his hand with cautious, and tentatively scrolled down. His feed was full of Crowley’s updates “Crowley, these pictures are beautiful!”

“I know. Make sure to like all my posts”

***

That was how, days later, as Aziraphale was killing time before an appointment and scrolling through his feed, he came across a picture that made him let out a shaky “_oh my_”. It was posted on Crowley’s account; and though the focus was supposed to be, as usual, the beautiful, vibrant plant, this time the man was in the shot as well, kneeling besides it and grazing the leaves. It was composed carefully enough to appear casual.

He scanned the defined profile, the focused expression, the sharp snake tattoo on his temple that was usually covered by strands of hair; but what really hypnotized him was his eyes, or rather eye as just one was visible. The sunglasses were in its usual spot, perched on the angular nose, but the angle allowed just the tiniest bit of iris to show.

Because of the filters and whatnot, Aziraphale couldn’t be sure of the color, but to his fascinated gaze it looked as vibrant and captivating, if not more, as the plant he was showing off. However, there was something he was sure about: He would very much like to see Crowley’s eyes uncovered.

That immediately lead him to a scarier realization: he was heads over heels for him. And he did not know what to do about it.

After some consideration, he resolved he’d let time take care of it, and try his best to keep enjoying his time with Crowley without overthinking it.

* * *

It was easier said than done, of course; but he really wished it worked, so he wouldn’t risk losing the small moments, like the one they were sharing now.

Crowley was stretched across the couch, with his head cushioned in Aziraphale’s thighs. He was describing the kind of vintage car he wanted to get when a soft _ping_ interrupted him.

“Oh” He heard Aziraphale mutter, picking up his phone, and then, in an unreadable tone, “It’s Beelzebub”

Crowley looked up, feeling out of place. Unlike him, Aziraphale rarely brought up his ex, and he tried to think of something to make things less awkward.

“So uh, Is Beelzebub like… their real name?” He asked the first thing that came to his mind.

Aziraphale blinked a few times until he processed the question.

“Well, no and yes. It started as a stage name, back when they… did stage things, music and the such, and then decided they wanted to keep it”

“Hm” Crowley considered the fact and realized he didn't care. “So? what does the message say?”

“Oh? Ah, they invited us to their birthday party, next weekend”

“_Us_?” Crowley asked, drawling out the “s”.

“Well, the message is for me, but” Aziraphale turned his phone, showing Crowley “They say you can come, if you want to”

Crowley sat up to give it a better look, and then looked at Aziraphale.

“Well? Do you want to?” He asked, tentatively.

“Huh?”

“Do you want us to go?”

Aziraphale seemed uncertain and Crowley almost regretted asking.

“Gabriel is going to be there. Can you promise you won’t pick a fight with him?”

Crowley was amused at that, not to mention relieved, but still made a show of huffing and rolling his eyes.

“That doesn’t depend exclusively on me. But I promise I’ll try”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO BABY CHAPTER 2 WHO ELSE IS HAPPY??!? I know I am!!
> 
> No but seriously, writting multi-chapters is a huge challenge for me, so I’m very happy I’m getting to wotk on it! And if I had to pick what I liked most about this one, it definitely was writing Beelzebub again, I feel it’s a super fun character to play with
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Kudos and comments are super, super appreciated :)
> 
> See you guys on next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (slight mention of transphobia)

Crowley stared at the mirror, severely analyzing the new outfit he tried on.

Unsurprisingly he didn't like it, and he felt stupid. This was stupid. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn’t go.

What was he even expecting, going to that stupid party? That Aziraphale would finally notice Crowley’s desperate advances and miraculously return his feelings??

Well. He did expect that, if he had to be honest; but he had to be realistic as well.

He focused back on his reflection, but couldn't stand looking at it anymore so he walked out of his bedroom.

He scowled as he had to walk over the mess of flowerpots, and gardening tools, and bags of seed and soil. In any other occasion he'd claim, to the right audience, that he enjoyed growing plants and flowers so much that he expected to only live from that, eventually. Right now he was just frustrated with the clutter in his already cramped apartment. He was also frustrated about his outfit. And if he were to be honest, he was frustrated with himself, in general.

Once in the living room he discarded his leather jacket, frowned at his skinny jeans in distaste, and stumbled as he pulled them out in his way back to his bedroom. There, he dug around his closet and picked up leggings; which he regarded carefully but ended up tossing aside, finally settling on leather pants. As he was putting them on, he decided that it was his shirt that wouldn’t do.

He wanted to scream in exasperation.

Sitting shirtless on his bed, with his pants half-pulled to his knees, he did the next best thing: texting Aziraphale.

_“Hey”_

He was grateful about finding out Aziraphale had a smartphone; after all, texting was easier than calling. He was even more grateful that Aziraphale had his phone close by, apparently, since this time he took less than ten minutes to text back.

_“Hello! How are you doing? Getting ready for the party? ;)”_

Crowley could swear Aziraphale had no idea that was a winking emoji he sent, but he felt his cheeks getting hot nonetheless. Doing his best to ignore it, he focused on answering the question.

_"Kinda. How r u gonna dress??"_

_"I believe my usual outfit is formal enough for a party"_

_"Unacceptable. I'm on my way"_

* * *

"Crowley, dear, there's no need, really-" Aziraphale tried to protest, but Crowley had started judging his clothing as soon as he walked in, making him take off his waistcoat.

It wasn't that Aziraphale looked _bad_, but Crowley wanted him to drop his overly formal image and just relax for once.

That wasn't exactly how he put it, however; instead he held Aziraphale still and reached for his collar.

"Shush. No bowtie. I'm banning it." Once he successfully removed the item, he undid the first two buttons of his shirt – making sure to keep his movements sharp and quick, not allowing his fingers to linger, even when he really wanted to. "Don't you have jeans?"

Aziraphale gave him a bewildered look, and promptly replied.

"I could _hardly_ wear jeans, next to you in your leather pants"

"You don't have to compare to me, you know"

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re still young, after all” Aziraphale huffed, which made Crowley laugh.

“Come on, you're not that old yourself, Angel”

“My dear boy, I'm turning 60 this year”

With a choked noise, Crowley fumbled with the bowtie, dropping it and clumsily kneeling to retrieve it. From his position he took on Aziraphale's blond, almost white curls; the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes; his worn out, old-fashioned waistcoat… and the hearty, but not less mischievous, laugh that Aziraphale let out.

“Oh, dear, you should have seen your face!” Aziraphale laughed again, and extended a hand to help Crowley up. Crowley grumbled but took it nonetheless, pushing himself up. “But seriously, I'm closer to 40 than I am to 30”

“Well… you look good, anyway. And you'll look way better in jeans. Hurry up”

Aziraphale nodded, but didn't let go Crowley's hand; Crowley was rather hyperaware of it, of their closeness, and immediately noticed when Aziraphale leaned slightly closer.

“Crowley?”

“Yes?”

As Aziraphale took a deep breath, Crowley held his own, not quite daring to hope what the other's words were going to be.

“Would you… won't you take off your glasses?”

It took Crowley a moment, but he schooled his factions to not show anything other than casual curiosity.

“Why do you ask?”

“I also think… you'd look better without them”

Crowley's breath hitched. He couldn't tell if Aziraphale was being earnest, or if he was flirting. He felt as if he was trapped and there was only one thing he could say to get out, except that he had no idea what that was.

He ran his free hand over his hair, as he carefully spoke.

“Maybe later I will take them off”

Was it too forward? Would Aziraphale even realize what he meant by that? He guessed he wasn't going to get an answer, but the small smile in Aziraphale's lips right before he released his hand gave him hope.

* * *

One change of pants later, they decided to walk since they weren't too far to the party, their arms brushing as they made small talk.

There was not food, which made Aziraphale pout; but there was, if not good, at least a lot of alcohol, which made Crowley grin.

Aziraphale went to find and greet Beelzebub. Subtly Crowley looked him go until he lost sight of him in the crowd, and then decided to stop wasting time and went straight to pouring himself a drink.

“Medicine for the nerves” He mumbled to himself, and downed his whole cup in three consecutive long sips. Then he refilled it and grabbed another for Aziraphale. “He sure is taking his time” He turned, looking around for him.

It took him a moment, but then he found the pale blond curls. He almost chocked. Aziraphale was talking with a guy, who not only was taller and had shoulders broader than Crowley's, but his hair was longer as well.

Or, more accurately, the guy was talking to Aziraphale, and the blond was shifting his feet, awkwardly fidgeted with the plastic cup in his hands. The guy leaned closer to say something in his ear and Aziraphale gave him a shy smile, and looked away with flushed cheeks.

It was then when his eyes found Crowley. Aziraphale held his gaze for a few seconds, with an unreadable expression. Crowley, forever grateful for his dark glasses, internally prayed the rest of his face didn’t give out any of the complicated feelings swirling in his chest, and let out a relieved sigh when Aziraphale turned around, pressing the cup into the guy’s hand as he muttered something and walked away.

When he returned to Crowley’s side, he gladly accepted the drink silently offered to him; taking quick care of it, similar to how Crowley had done.

The both of them had yet another drink, without talking, and when he couldn’t take the bass-filled silence anymore Crowley spoke with pretended cheer.

“Hey” Crowley gestured vaguely towards the direction from where Aziraphale came "Don’t worry about me, it's a party, you should have fun"

Aziraphale turned to him, slowly, and looked up through long eyelashes. Crowley had to make an effort to listen to him over the feeling of his own heartbeat resonating inside him.

"Dance with me, then"

For all answer, Crowley took hold of his soft, manicured hand and guided him.

None of them were exactly graceful at the dancefloor, but they managed to keep up with the rhythm of the loud pop song; with each beat their bodies moved closer together, and it only felt natural when they leaned into each other and met in the middle.

It was a small, soft brush of lips against lips, but it left them both breathless.

"Let's get more alcohol" Crowley suggested, aware that they weren't alone. When Aziraphale nodded, he held his hand and left the dancefloor, heading for the drinks table.

They did not stop there, however, as Crowley snatched the first bottle he reached and kept walking into a dark corner. Aziraphale giggled nervously and took hold of the bottle, taking a long sip. They passed it back and forth a few times until Crowley sneaked his arm around the other’s waist and leaned in for a new kiss.

"Crowley..." Aziraphale whispered, pulling back as a hand tried to sneak under his shirt "Not in here" he said, smiling drunkenly.

"Sure. Right" Crowley had the same, silly smile, and pulled back as well. He tried to take a swing of the bottle, only to find it was empty. “Let’s find some more of this”

Aziraphale agreed, but they only made a few steps before someone intercepted them.

"Fancy seeing you here, _Anthony_" The man had inexpressive eyes but his voice was mocking. Aziraphale saw Crowley clenching his jaw "Didn't know they allowed any kind of freak to the party"

"I had to sneak in, as they only invited a very special kind of freak, _Hastur_"

"Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?" Hastur dropped the snark instantly and stepped forward into Crowley's space, who did not move "Do you need a reminder that you can't talk to me like that?"

"Oh that'd be my pleasure" Crowley growled and took a step himself, getting nose to nose with the other.

"Guys, come on, I'm sure we can talk this out…?" Aziraphale muttered in an attempt to distract the other two, as he noticed a small crowd was starting to form around them.

It worked, partially, as Hastur leaned back to take one look at him.

"Ah, it's you.” Hastur’s first expression of disgust turned into mockery “I thought Bee had dumped you for good"

“Hey. You're talking with me, remember?” Crowley called for Hastur's attention, firmly pulling Aziraphale behind him. Only he noticed the hurried steps approaching them.

“What's going on?” Gabriel demanded loudly as he got closer, and Crowley and Hastur separated. Gabriel’s eyes focused on Crowley. “Oh. It's you, of course” He sounded like he was scolding a disobedient child.

Mumbling unintelligibly under his breath, Hastur walked away, and Crowley turned to Gabriel so brusquely that Aziraphale thought he was about to punch him.

“Of course” He repeated, instead, and then turned. “I knew I shouldn't have come” He muttered to himself and hastily walked to the door.

“A-ah, wait!” Aziraphale scrambled to follow him.

* * *

Crowley was standing outside, frowning, and started walking when he saw Aziraphale at his side.

"How come you know Hastur?” Crowley asked, spitting out the name with disgust.

“Hmm? Oh, he's friends with Beelzebub, so we talked a few times” Aziraphale bit his lip, thinking what to say next without sounding rude. “He's, uh… Well, he's not _exactly…_”

“No need to sugarcoat it for me, Angel, if you don't remember we nearly punched each other. I already know he's a jerk”

Aziraphale nodded, and made a pause before asking.

"What's the deal with Hastur, then? Another ex of yours?"

"Ew, no! Gross! We’re half-brothers"

Aziraphale frowned, taking his time to think.

"He never mentioned a brother, that I remember"

"Of course he didn't" Crowley snarled through teeth. He would have mentioned a _sister_, if he even talked about him, which Crowley hardly doubted. A low growl of disdain resonated on his throat.

Humming soothingly, Aziraphale took Crowley's hand in his, drawing circles in the back with his thumb.

Crowley stopped walking and without hesitation tugged at their joined hands, pressing up against Aziraphale and pecking at his lips insistently. Aziraphale smiled softly and kept still for a moment, before turning his face.

"My dear, we're in public"

"Alright. Let's go to yours, then"

***

They kept their hands linked until they reached Aziraphale’s place, and then Crowley let go so the other could search for his keys and unlock the door.

“Don't turn on the lights” Mumbled Crowley as soon as Aziraphale walked in.

“Uh… why…”

“You said you wanted me to take off my glasses, right? I’m sensitive to light.”

Aziraphale muttered a soft _“oh”_, and his hand left the light switch. He waited until Crowley walked in and closed the door, and then grabbed his hand, guiding him upstairs.

Only then Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley, with a quiet, expectant gasp. Crowley exhaled slowly and raised his free hand to his face, uncovering his eyes for Aziraphale.

There was enough moonlight filtering from the outside and for a moment they just stared, getting lost at each other's eyes, with no barriers between them. Aziraphale took a step closer, fascinated with the pale green in Crowley's eyes, and raised a hand to caress his cheek. And once again, Crowley barreled forward, hungrily claiming Aziraphale's lips.

This time Aziraphale enthusiastically kissed back, shutting his eyes closed as he gave in to the warmth surrounding their bodies; his mouth opened with a sigh that Crowley swallowed.

Slowly opening his eyes, Aziraphale let go of Crowley's hand, trailing up his arm and curling around his bicep, gently pulling him along as he walked backwards into a couch. They broke the kiss for a moment only as they dropped down, Crowley putting his glasses aside and eagerly straddling Aziraphale, and found each other's lips again.

Their hands were clutching and tugging at clothes, and eventually they had to pull apart to catch their breath.

“Wait” Aziraphale sighed out, looking away, as Crowley pressed his lips against his neck, panting "I- _we_ can't! You're drunk-"

"So are you" Crowley protested, but moved out of Aziraphale's lap to sit next to him. Aziraphale wasn't looking at him, and kept going as if uninterrupted.

"-and you're still mad about the whole thing with Hastur, I can tell! You're just… using this to get a distraction!"

"Wha- You don’t- are you serious?” Crowley looked at him in disbelief “Then why do you think I kissed you before?” Aziraphale opened his mouth but he kept going, infuriated “Tell me, why did _you_ kiss me? Earlier? Huh? No no, wait, don't answer, you used m- _that,_ too!"

"What do you even-"

"Oh come on! You take me to your ex's party, you kiss me-"

Aziraphale went red and spoke before Crowley could finish the idea.

"If you're trying to say I wanted to make Beelzebub jealous, I have to stop you right there, because that's not it!"

"Oh no, of course that's not it. That's beneath you, isn't it? But you needed to prove you were worthy of a relationship too, didn't you? That if _they_ moved on and found someone else already, you were not _less_, isn't it true? Isn't it-"

It wasn’t Aziraphale who cut him this time, but himself with a gagging noise, as he doubled over and threw up.

"Oh dear"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the scene with Hastur was the first I wrote when I started drafting this story. Also, I hope you didn't spend much time thinking who was the man talking to Aziraphale at the party because it's just a random guy.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm excited to keep sharing this story, and I hope you're liking it so far! Kudos and comments are super appreciated, as usual
> 
> See you next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old characters, new characters, some conversations

Crowley groaned and rolled in his sleep, only to land on the cold floor.

“What the…” He opened his eyes, and hissed as sunlight hit him directly in the eyes. He patted around, looking for his glasses, and they fell with a clank next to his side.

Once his eyes were properly covered, he took a moment to be confused about where the fuck he was, and then everything came back to him in a rush. The loud music, the alcohol, Hastur's ugly face, walking hand in hand with Aziraphale, Aziraphale's lips… Some kind of fight… Did he throw up? And then he said something stupid. He wasn’t sure what, but he _knew_ it was stupid.

And now he was alone, tangled in an old comforter, on the floor next to a couch. In Aziraphale's apartment.

“Ah, shit” He mumbled, but he couldn't tell whether it was prompted by the events of the last night, or the splitting headache that was building up.

He stood up with wobbly knees, resisting the primal urge to yell _fuck _at the top of his lungs. Instead he retrieved his glasses, and allowed himself a second to sigh out of satisfaction as his eyes were covered again.

It was just that: a second, and then he heard movement down the hall. Aziraphale was up, surely.

That would probably give him the chance to talk things out. Apologize for whatever he said, last night. Maybe have an analgesic because the headache wasn't going anywhere, and go back to sleep on a real bed this time. With Aziraphale, warm and soft, between his arms…

He heard more noises; the creaking of a door being opened. Without a second thought he bolted down the stairs, into the shop and out to the street; and he did his best to ignore the pain pulsing on his temples.

* * *

Crowley spent the rest of the weekend alternatively screaming at his growing plants, and brooding on his bed; but always making a point to ignore every new notification on his phone. On Sunday night, satisfied on his own pettiness, he checked on everything he missed. The disappointment struck so hard that he went to bed early; Aziraphale hadn’t tried to contact him once.

And then Monday came, as it tended to do, and he was back to the same old routine. He continued feeling miserable, but at the office this time. He needed some kind of outlet, that’s why he didn’t hesitate when he spotted Gabriel walking close. Especially when he noticed the angry purple bruise on his face.

“Oh hey, nice black eye” Crowley called, and Gabriel stopped on his track; but instead of yelling at him, or giving a snarky comeback, he just sighed and plopped down next to Crowley. “Rough time, huh?”

“You could say so” Gabriel ran a hand over his face. He really looked exhausted. Crowley eyed him warily.

“Don’t tell me…” He almost felt bad for the teasing, and dropped his voice lower “Did… Beelzebub do that?”

“What? No!” It seemed genuine, and Crowley relaxed. “Nothing like that! It was your brother, actually”

“Half-brother” Crowley corrected instinctively “Hastur? What reason did he even had to do that? Not that he really needs a reason to use his fists, but…”

Gabriel looked down, biting his lower lip. It was an expression that looked odd on his face.

“He had too much to drink, I guess. At the party. And started making, well… inadequate comments” He explained, shooting a glance at Crowley and looking down again.

“You can say transphobic, it’s alright” Crowley rolled his eyes. “So what? You jumped in there to protect your partner’s honor?” His voice was heavy with resentment. Gabriel sighed again.

“Not exactly. It was Beelzebub who jumped at his throat, and they were doing a pretty good job, but I thought I had to separate them and, well”

“Got a black eye for your troubles” Crowley finished it for him.

“Pretty much, yeah”

“Well. At least now Beelzebub knows what kind of friend they have.” He made a face as he said _friend_ “And so do you, too”

“I- I should have known, I suppose. And I’m… sorry that I never really defended you”

“Yeah, whatever” Crowley made a dismissive wave with his hand, and kept his watery eyes fixed in the floor.

“So how are things going with… Azi…pha… what was his name?”

“Aziraphale” His named tasted bittersweet on Crowley’s mouth “And you’d be happy to know that I ruined that already”

Gabriel frowned.

“Why would I be happy about that?” He asked, and Crowley shrugged. “Crowley… Things may not have worked between us, but I still… You know I care about you, right?”

“First notice I’ve had” He replied curtly, keeping his gaze down.

“Communication was never our thing, was it? And I guess I’m not the most indicated one to say this, but, if you’re that affected… maybe you should try to, I don’t know, talk? Fix things? I mean. You didn’t look all that bad, together”

Gabriel offered him a sincere, small smile. To his surprise, Crowley smiled back.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Now go ahead and do your boss things, that’s enough bonding to last me for a year”

* * *

Newton woke up to the insistent ring of the phone, and stumbled his way to pick it up.

Who even called on landline, anyway? And this early in the morning?

He didn’t get to mumble “Hello” when he was already interrupted, by a frantic “Anathema??”

“Uh… N-no, this is Newton…” The voice was familiar “Aziraphale?”

“Newton! Yes, it is me…” Newton heard him take a sharp breath, and then kept talking with a shaky voice “I’m sorry to call so out of the blue, but I’m afraid in the direst need of a friend”

“Oh, Aziraphale! We’ll be right there, of course”

* * *

Newton and Anathema had met through Aziraphale. Or through his job, at least. Anathema, who was a regular client of Aziraphale, was in the waiting room at the same time that Newton was getting his first tattoo and passing out at the sight of blood. Anathema helped the distressed Aziraphale, and when Newton woke up she stayed and distracted him until the tattoo was done.

They were inseparable from there. Aziraphale wasn’t sure about the nature of their relationship: the both of them (mainly Anathema) had introduced him to other partners over the years; but he knew they were happy, and that was enough for him.

An hour after the phone call, they were greeted into Aziraphale’s house with a tight hug.

Aziraphale wrangled his hands nervously; he attempted to look composed as he gestured them to take a seat, hovering around them and offering tea or coffee or just water or if you want milk I think I have some left or I could go get some or…

Newton looked at Anathema, not daring to say anything in case he blew everything up. Anathema sighed and focused on Aziraphale.

“Honey, calm down! Why don’t you sit too and tell us what’s wrong?”

Aziraphale stopped his frantic pacing, brusquely, and dropped on a chair.

“I’m… I’m not sure, actually…” He started rambling “It’s complicated… Or maybe not, but it is long…”

“Newton. Go make tea” Anathema ordered and Newton was happy to have a reason to leave the room, at least for a moment.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, but Aziraphale could be… _intense_, for lack of a better word, and he wasn’t the most adequate to deal with emotional distress.

When he came back, managing to balance three cups of tea, Aziraphale was in the middle of describing someone – lavishing red hair, breathtaking eyes, Newton caught –

His voice was steady as he described how they got close to each other, even smiling from time to time. Until he brought up the party, at that point his eyes went shiny, filled with tears.

“He said I only kissed him to…” His voice cracked “That I was just trying to one-up Beelzebub…” He sniffled, and rubbed his eyes.

“Well, were you?” Anathema asked softly, speaking for the first time since Aziraphale started talking.

Aziraphale looked confused, as if he didn’t think about it before.

“I… I don’t think so, no…” He answered quietly “No, I didn’t think about Beelzebub at all…”

“It’s solved, then” Anathema reached out and squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “You just have to talk with him” Newton nodded.

Surprising both of them, Aziraphale huffed.

“He didn’t even text me. Why should I bother?”

Anathema raised a single eyebrow, her expression turning cold. Her hand in Aziraphale’s remained for another moment; but then it felt like a warning, more than a friendly gesture.

“Why shouldn’t you?” She asked back and sipped at his tea, and it sounded final. Newton gulped and looked at Aziraphale in sympathy. In turn, Aziraphale stared at his lap, still pouting, until he sighed and looked up.

“I guess… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to reach out” He muttered in a small voice, and biting his lip he stood up and started looking for his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re almost there!! One more chapter! This one took a lot longer than I expected, but I’m glad I was able to go back to it and not just leave it and forget about it (like i’ve done other times *sweats*)
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Kudos and comments are super appreciated :)

**Author's Note:**

> Woww okay! I’m very excited to start posting this fic! Some of the tags that i have right now will appear in next chapters, and some new tags may be added as well.
> 
> I have the next chapters outlined already, so it shouldn’t take a lot until I update this, but I’m sadly not good at schedules so I can’t tell when the next one will be up. Anyway, I am glad you’re reading this and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!! Please let me know if you catch any mistake, and any other comment and kudos are obviously welcome!
> 
> You can find me as @bi_lly_shears in twitter and @thinkanamelater in tumblr
> 
> Alright now I’m going to bed because I really need it!!


End file.
